


Bet On It

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Bellarke + #1 ('Come over here and make me') </p>
<p>Summary: Somehow Clarke gets roped into facing off against Bellamy in the sparring ring, and as usual with the delinquents, silliness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bet On It

Clarke usually had no problem getting her mind in the game when it came to a competition, but today, as she watched Bellamy stretch for their sparring match, she couldn’t seem to focus. She kept tracing the strong lines of the muscles running down his arms, and how his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. It didn’t help that he had a particularly charming grin on his face as he and Octavia laughed with each other, seemingly carefree, as if a month’s worth of laundry duty wasn’t resting on this bet. 

“You’ll do fine,” Lincoln said from behind her. “Just remember to use his weight against him, and move fast to compensate for his strength.”

Before she could respond, Bellamy called over from the other side of the clearing. “You ready?” His grin lit up his whole face, and Clarke felt her pride rise at the challenge in his eyes. 

“Ready to win, that’s for sure,” she retorted, shucking off her jacket as she moved towards him. 

They met in the center, her face fixed into a fierce expression, his lined with laughter. It was stupid, really, that a casual, teasing argument over which of the delinquents’ co-leaders would win in a physical fight had culminated in this ridiculous one-time-only fighting match between her and Bellamy. First one to hit the ground lost, with the other claiming bragging rights and the pass on laundry. Given the nature of their little group, other bets had spread like wildfire, much to Clarke’s dismay and Bellamy’s amusement. 

At hearing Monty’s encouraging whistle and Jasper’s trash-talking yells in support of her, Clarke had to stifle a smile. “Seems like the crowd is in my favor,” she taunted, taking a circling step to her left.

Bellamy moved in sync with her, chuckling when a distinctly female series of encouragements popped up from around the watching throng.

“Typical,” Clarke snorted out, a laugh escaping afterwards. Bellamy had the decency to look a little embarrassed, though his smile still said he was pleased somewhat by the attention. 

Taking the opportunity of distraction, Clarke took a jab at him, but he managed to jump out of the way just in time.

“Please,” he scoffed, throwing her a warm, taunting smile, one that had her heartbeat faltering.  _Stop that_ , she admonished, even as she let the way the sunlight danced across his freckled face distract her. When he reached out to snag her arm, she almost moved straight into his grasp, but somehow spun around so she escaped him, barely. This time she grinned at him, raising her eyebrows daringly, watching his own gaze narrow in on her taunt. 

They went back and forth like that for a while, attempting stilted, half-hearted moves to entrap the other. Both of them were concerned about injuries, and the only reason Clarke had finally agreed to this was because Bellamy had been so goddamn arrogant that he would win. She obviously wasn’t going to let that stand, otherwise this whole thing she considered to be absurd.

A few voices in the crowd started booing, clearly having expected something a little more lively. Clarke could practically feel Lincoln’s embarrassment from across the clearing. Really, he had taught her better than this, and she wasn’t putting his hard work in training her to good use. If Octavia’s rapid, annoyed pacing was any indication, Bellamy seemed to be frustrating his mentor in the same way as well. 

“Truce?” She murmured jokingly so only he could hear as they squared off again, lunging briefly at each other here and there.

Shaking his head, Bellamy gloated, “Really, you’re giving up that easily?”

“I  _know_  I could beat you, so this whole thing is a pointless spectacle.”

“This is fun, princess. Don’t you know what fun is?”

Clarke laughed. “Get a new joke, Blake. That one is losing its shine. And yeah, it is going to be really fun making you lose.”

“That’s a big game you talk, Griffin.”

“I will knock you on your ass before this is over, I promise you that.” She blocked another lunge from him but didn’t retaliate, instead choosing to bide her time. 

“All talk,” he taunted, taking another swipe at her.

After deflecting him again, she dropped her hands and straightened suddenly, not liking the over-confident tone in his voice. “What, you don’t think you’ll go down?”

“How about you come over here and make me?” Grinning even more widely, he spread his arms out in challenge, wiggling his fingers to summon her.

It took her only a split second to decide what to do. With a smile, she took off sprinting, heading for him full force. Only just before she hit did she see the surprise register in his eyes. Then, with her entire body plastered against his, she sent them both slamming into the ground. 

With the ringing in her ears, and the shouts of the crowd, Clarke could barely hear Bellamy’s laughing groans. The force of their fall had knocked the wind out of her, and she just lay on top of him, not having the strength to move quite yet. His warmth slowly began seeping its way into her skin, and she shivered, pressing her mouth into his shoulder. The subsequent sharp intake of breath he let out made her smile, even as her stomach flipped at the sensation of his warm, firm body pressing into every part of her. Feeling him grower tenser beneath her, Clarke finally lifted her head to meet his eyes, taking in his amused, disbelieving expression. She opened her mouth to apologize—because really, they both could’ve gotten hurt with that move—but she shifted as she did, and suddenly Bellamy’s gaze darkened, sending nervous skitters down her spine. One of his hands came up to grip her waist tightly, and in response she reached up to brush a smudge of dirt off of his cheek.

“Tackling me, that was your best strategy?” He finally asked, voice hoarse and low.

Clarke couldn’t look away from his demanding stare as she replied haughtily, “Well, it worked didn’t it?”

“Except you’re on the ground, too,” he corrected, smiling up at her. 

She realized just how close his lips were, making her response stick in her throat. Clearing it, she stuttered out, “So, a draw, then?”

“The kids aren’t going to be happy.”

“They got their show, didn’t they?”

“I’ll say,” Bellamy said, hand tightening on her waist. It startled her from their little bubble, and she twitched away as she rose off of him finally. Laughter and something more intriguing danced in his eyes as she helped him up, both of them moving stiffly towards the concerned, displeased, or entertained members of the crowd to announce the outcome of the match. 

It wasn’t until a few months later, when their relationship had become old news, that it came to their attention that new bets had been placed after the fight. Apparently, their intimate interaction after falling to the ground had been widely noticed, and the result was a flurry of excited guesses as to when first kisses and admissions of feelings would happen. In the end, Monty had been the closest bet, placing their resolution of the tension at a month after the incident. In reality, Bellamy and Clarke hadn’t even made it to two weeks before falling into bed together, a fact that made them blushingly grumble when they realized their friends had higher expectations for their self-control than they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr (kay-emm-gee)!


End file.
